


Series of Drabbles, Pt. 1

by snowberrie



Series: 100 Gotzeus Drabbles [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:44:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowberrie/pseuds/snowberrie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco and Mario were only one letter different.<br/>Mario apologizes for eating Marco’s pudding.<br/>Mario tells himself he’s only human.<br/>“But I need it NOW. I’m at 33%!”<br/>Mario knew he was running away, and that he was good at it too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Series of Drabbles, Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to get back into writings so I'm starting off with drabbles of who else but Gotzeus. Yes, I enjoy making myself suffer by thinking and writing about them.

**51\. Troubling Thoughts**

The atmosphere on the bus was glum. They had just lost to Bayern despite having an early lead. One particular player looked troubled with his thoughts when suddenly…

“AH!” Mario exclaimed, jumping up from his seat as if he just discovered the 4th dimension or the 27th letter of the alphabet. 

The entire Dortmund bus stared at the young one. Marco included.

“Marco Marco Marco! Guess what I just realized?”

Marco wasn’t expecting something profound, but he certainly wasn’t expecting this.

“Our names are one letter apart! See? See? If you replace my _i_ in _Mario_ with a _c_ it becomes _Marco_! You!” Mario grinned, as if he was waiting for applause after making an acceptance speech for a Nobel prize.

_Silence._

The entire Dortmund bus roared with laughter all the way until Westfalenstadion. The next day, Mario held the sit-up record during practice. Apparently, the rest of the team all complained of muscle soreness from the previous day. Mario didn’t get it, he played the full 90 minutes and he was fine. 

 

\-----

**58\. Heartfelt Apology**

“Marco!” 

_Knock knock knock._

_Silence._

“Marco! I know you’re in there…”

Mario stood at the door to Marco’s appointment.

“Hey… I know you’re upset… please open up… I…I just wanna talk…”

There was still no reply.

“I…I won’t leave until you open up Marco.”

“... Marco, _please_ ” Mario pleaded, his voice full of regret and desperation.

The door creaked and a slight crack opened up, revealing a very displeased Marco. It almost looked like his GQ spread, except more, serial-killer like.

“What.”

Hearing Marco’s voice pained Mario, but seeing Marco in that state made Mario want to cry. The hair that was Marco worked so hard on everyday was unkempt like Mario’s never seen before. 

“Talk. Or I’m leaving.” Marco abruptly said while beginning to close the door.

“Wait! Marco wait let me explain… no let me apologize…I was stupid. I shouldn’t have done that… to you. And I’m so, so, so sorry…”

Mario swallowed and paused to collect his breath. He could feel Marco’s piercing glaze at him, boring a whole through him. All the millions of eyes on him on the pitch felt nothing like this.

“I… I was so hungry and there honestly was nothing left and I checked everything and I didn’t have any money and ohgod I’m so sorry Marco I’m so sorry. _I promise to never eat your pudding ever again_.”

_Silence._

Mario slowly glanced up, afraid to meet Marco’s eye. He realized Marco was still there and continued on.

“Look.. I’m really sorry and I wish I’d never done it. I bought some more for you and you can have it all and I promise I’ll never touch it ever again. They’re your favourite … you know the ones with caramel on the bottom. ” Mario tenderly offered the giant bag filled with pudding cups to Marco. 

Marco grinned, quickly grabbing the bag and closing the door in Mario’s face. Mario was left utterly shell shocked, wondering what had gone wrong. 

A few second later, the door opened again much to Mario’s relief.

“Come in. We can share.”

 

\-----

**80\. Only Human**

Mario tells himself he’s only human.

And humans have dreams; they have ambitions. Along the way they have to make sacrifices, but if it helps him fulfill his dream he’ll do what he needs to do. 

In order to play for Europe’s greatest team under one of Europe’s greatest coaches. He’s young and he’s skilled. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.

Even if that means leaving behind his childhood club of more than 10 years. Even if it means betraying his fans, his teammates, his coach, and Marco.  
He’ll lock away his emotions if it means achieving his dreams.

What Mario didn’t realize though, was that emotions are part of being human. 

Years later, Mario will look back on his mistakes. After all, he’s only human. 

 

\-----

**11\. 33%**

“Marco! I need your charger, NOW!” Mario screamed dramatically throwing his headphones off. 

Marco jumped, surprised at Mario’s sudden outburst. The two were enjoying a lazy Sunday in Marco’s apartment. 

“I’m using it. You can have it afterwards.” Mario replied, going back to his laptop.

“But I need it NOW. I’m at 33%!” Mario shouted with even more urgency moving towards Marco.

Marco stared. “Yes, but I have low battery too.”

“But you’re only _listening_ to Justin Bieber. I’m _watching_ his concert.” Mario argued.

Marco raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t decide which was more absurb: Mario’s argument or the fact he maybe-sorta-actually agrees with Mario’s argument. 

Marco could see younger one’s pout getting deeper and… wait did he start trembling too? He sighs. “Fine, only if you let me watch too,” he says with a grin.

Mario bursts into a smile and quickly steals the charger to hurriedly plug in his own laptop. He sits down and pauses, looking at his headphones in horror. “Marco, my headphones won’t fit us!”

Marco paused and looked at Mario wondering if he was being serious. When Mario didn’t budge, Marco chuckled and unplugged the headphones just in time to hear – _Baby, baby, baby ohhh_

 

\-----

**13\. Running away**

Mario knew he was running away, and that he was good at it too. It was part of his job – the running part at least. 

Every time Marco looked his way, he would shift his gaze elsewhere or pretend to be busy with something, anything. Every time Marco tried to speak to him directly, he would hurry off saying he was in a rush. Every time Marco tried to call him, he would pretend he didn’t hear the phone until the point he honestly believed he didn’t have a cellphone. It’s not like he used it anymore. 

Then Marco stopped trying. 

That’s when Mario knew he had won. The pain was gone and all that was left was numbness. And he just kept running, running away. It was the only thing left he could do.


End file.
